Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) (6 page)

“To your next assumed question, which certainly must be “what is keeping him alive?” We have the answer for that, and the possibilities are incredible!”

“To understand what it is that is keeping Alexander Black alive, I have to first cover a few other discoveries. First, the blood work was normal.
 
The blood was obviously left over from his twin.
 
The blood is not circulating, it had simply pooled in his extremities.

“The patient is showing an incredible ability to learn quickly and to remember. He has already learned how to feed himself a bottle and had displayed an ability to locate hidden objects. Fairly remarkable.

“But now to the test results. The only way to describe the cell formation is ‘supercharged.’ I will explain. As we all know, cells contain oxygen. Once the oxygen in the cell is depleted, the cell is filled back up with oxygen by our blood via the circulatory and respiratory systems. In Alexander, however, his cells re-supply, both by themselves and by transferring and borrowing from other cells. The cells contain thousands of times the normal amount of oxygen and are able to share this oxygen with nearby cells. This ‘sharing’ enables the cells to share oxygen, glucose, glycogen, triglycerides, water, and whatever else the body needs.
 

“This sharing extends to energy, as well. His stomach does function, though not as a normal stomach. Food seems to be broken down quickly into cell transferable energy. All the results are not in yet on the stomach, so this is still sketchy. Also, any waste products are also carried and transferred from cell to cell and are then drained via gravity out of the body. We don’t feel that the patient will ever have any control of his elimination, however.

“He is able to go without sleep until the oxygen levels in his cells is too low to sustain movement. He then falls into a deep sleep, which activates his one half of a lung to begin drawing air, thusly re-charging and replenishing the cells.

“Most notably, there seems to be no cell decay or even cell death. This, if true, would explain his ability to learn quickly and remember practically anything. Once a brain cell is imprinted with an event, the cell will always be there and will be ready to relinquish its content whenever needed. This is another area where more tests are needed, but so far, we have seen no cell decay and no cell death.

“Also, it seems that the more he grows, the stronger his cells grow. If this mutual growth continues, he will only need to sleep after very long periods of intense activity. I also feel that Alexander could become very dangerous. If he can truly remember everything that happens, everything he hears, sees, or touches, and if his growth continues, he is going to be one very strong, very smart person.
 

“To sum up our findings thus far, some preliminary tests show that Alexander has a life expectancy of just over thirty-years. At that point, his cells, though not in decay or death, will no longer be able to transfer oxygen as efficiently. What will happen, again in theory, is that as he grows closer to his ‘life expectancy,’ he will begin to sleep more and will eventually simply never wake up. My team may be wrong, though, and Alex could live a thousand years. They just can’t provide a ‘rock solid’ estimate for you. His cells may find a way to continue well beyond what I project. His brain cells are already showing signs of environmental adaptation. He is, and will remain, for a while at least, a mystery.”

There was silence at both ends of the phone line while the doctors at Saint Stevens avoided looking into another’s eyes. No one knew what to ask, yet all had thousands of questions. Mark Rinaldo broke the silence after the silence entered its second full minute.

“Super-charged cells? This includes all cells?”

“It appears so,” Straus answered.

Mark fell silent again. As each word came out of the small, black speaker sitting on the desk of his office, Mark fell deeper into the realization that his sleep would be affected for a long time to come. “Even Alexander,” he thought wryly, “will be getting more sleep than me.”
 

Besides the conference call and the questions it raised, Mark was also thoughtful and worried about Henry Zudak, who hadn’t been back to work since Alexander was born. Stanley told Mark that Henry was suffering from severe headaches and night terrors. Mark was worried because of the intense concern he saw in Peter’s eyes.

“How bad are the dreams?” Mark asked Stanley a few days after Henry informed Mark that he needed some time off.

“I guess that they are pretty bad. Very realistic.
 
They’re really doing a number on him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. I gave him some Valium hoping that the drug would help calm him down. He keeps saying that ‘eyes’ are coming after him.”

Mark wasn’t seeing any “eyes” in his dreams, only memories, which were bad enough. And as Mark sat in the conference room listening to Straus rattle off his findings on Alexander, he began to wonder if he would ever see Henry Zudak deliver another child again.

“There are a few other findings,” Straus called out from the black speaker, interrupting Mark’s thoughts and the silence of the conference room. “I did some muscular tests and found that the patient’s strength is quite exceptional for an six-day-old infant. His reflexes are quick and responsive, and his cartilage has already begun transforming to bone. As with all his other cells, both his muscular and skeletal cells are ‘super-charged.’ No decay, self-replenishing, and with the potential to grow in strength as the patient matures.”

The long pause that followed had all the doctors at Saint Stevens staring at the speakerphone. The hundred plus years of education in the room couldn’t ask one single question. They wondered what they could ask about something that they were not yet convinced was real. A quick crackle sounded through the speaker, sending a bolt of excited and startled energy through Mark and his team.

“The last thing I want to say, believe it or not, is perhaps the most difficult fact to understand and to accept. He can talk. Not words, mind you, not yet anyway. But he can use his vocal chords. We have no idea how he can do this without his lung performing while he is awake, but he can. He’s done this on several occasions. The first time almost scared us to death. In order for Alex to speak, he must become perfectly still. I have some theories that may explain this ability, but I won’t share them until I run some more tests.”

“Doctor Straus? Peter Adams here. I have a quick question. You said that his cells have a life expectancy of around thirty years. Are you saying that he will live for thirty years? I guess I didn’t quite understand what you were saying.”

“Not for certain. The tests do indicate that the cells will lose their ability to transfer energy after thirty years, but we can’t say for sure. We tested his cells after each of his sleep episodes and found that they lose some transfer ability. An incredibly small amount of loss, but loss nonetheless. Remember, he has only fallen asleep twice so we don’t have enough data to really be accurate. Also, we don’t think he can produce new cells, so whatever we take out, we have to put back. Not sure if the cells we put back continue to function. We certainly don’t want to cause permanent damage by removing too many cells. Could be a very delicate balance. Again, his cells do show indications of an ability to adapt and evolve as needed. I simply cannot say for sure how long Alex will live.”

“Excuse me, Doctor Stanley Mix here. You said that the child could be dangerous when he grows up. What did you mean by that?”
   

“If he has a negative disposition, his retained knowledge and exceptional strength could be dangerous to anyone who tried to outsmart him or overpower him. Just speculation on my part, Doctor.”

“Are you going to be able to keep him in a safe area, just in case?” Stanley asked as his mind relived a retained image of Michelle’s face.
 

“I can assure you that my facility will retain the child until it becomes impossible to do so. If that day comes, I have a private lodge up North to which I could make some renovations and keep the child up there. I’m looking at this as a full-term endeavor. I’m not going to give up on this child until I find out everything there is to find out, or, God forbid, he passes on.”

“Some of us may want to visit Alexander from time to time. Can that be arranged?” Mark asked while staring directly at Stanley, asking with his eyes if he thought Henry would benefit from a visit with Alexander.

“I was going to invite you all up myself,” the pride filled voice of William Straus answered back. “Come anytime. By the time you come, I’m sure that we will have more information for you. Then, we can discuss Alexander face to face, doctors to doctors. There is truly nothing I would enjoy more than to have all of you visit my Center. Come anytime.”

2014

Derek stared blankly into his client’s eyes. Searching to see a hint of something that would let Derek know that either the story he had just heard was the ramblings of an insane person, a joke organized by some members of a police force somewhere in the country or was actually a very bizarre and nearly impossible to understand truth.

“You’re telling me that your twin brother and you were born joined together and that the only heart you two were using is inside of your chest right now?”

“Yes, I swear that’s the truth,” Thomas said.

“And you’re also expecting me to believe that your twin brother, the one that got the short end of the surgery stick, is not only still alive after twenty-two years, but that he killed three people and can’t be located by the local police?”

“Look,” Thomas said, his impatience growing. “I know this sounds like I am making it all up or that I’m crazy, but as God as my witness, it’s all true. Doesn’t the fact that I paid you over three grand already prove anything?”

“Only that you may have some spare money lying around.”

“If I am agreeing to pay you your full fee, which I am, does it really matter to you if you are chasing a figment of my imagination or not? I mean, all I ask is that you help me find my brother and keep my parents and me safe. If you discover that I am making this whole story up, then you just walk away with my money and no damage done. Hell, I’ll even advance you another ten grand if you need more proof that I’m serious.”

Derek kept staring deeply into Thomas’s eyes. He sensed something that told him that the story was true, but he also sensed he wasn’t getting the whole story.

“Where are your parents now?”

“Probably still in the air. They are flying to the Bahamas.”

“So unless your brother is on that plane, sounds to me like they are nice and safe right where they are.”

“For now, yes. But not if we don’t stop my brother. Eventually, he will find them.”

“Curious about one thing. Actually, I’m curious about a whole lot of things, but one in particular. Why aren’t you not looking over your shoulder every three seconds?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that you felt you needed me to provide protection for you and for your parents, but here you are, sitting in a public park and the only thing you seem concerned about is getting me to believe your story. Curious.”

Thomas shook his head and readjusted his body on the park bench. “I hired you for your protection. If I don’t feel safe when I am two feet from you, then I may have made a poor hiring decision.”

“Okay. Good answer. I’ll accept that,” Derek said, his response mixed with embarrassment and lingering doubt.

“Well?” Thomas asked. “Will you help me or not? Just say the word and I’ll arrange the money to be transferred today.”

“Where was the murder scene? I guess I should start there.”

“Piseco Lake, up in the Adirondack Mountains of New York.”

Police Chief Ralph Fox arrived at the crime scene a full seven hours after the bodies were discovered. Officer Wayne White called him from the scene and told him that he had better cut his vacation short and get back to Piseco Lake. Ralph was in the middle of a lobster dinner that he had bought fresh from the Maine Seafood Market when the telephone in his rented beach house sounded. He had been in Ogunquit for only two of his seven-day vacation and let Ken White know about it.

“You better be calling me for something damn right important, officer,” he barked in his displaced Texas drawl. “I ain’t had no vacation in five years, and I ain’t ready to call this one off, yet. So, what you got to say better be damn important.”

“Chief, we got a murder. Actually, three. Single crime scene.”

The stress in Wayne White’s voice was abundantly obvious. Ralph had only been the Chief of Police for the town of Arietta New York for six months and didn’t know his officers all that well yet. But the stress and fear, mixed with some dark excitement, was clearly coming through Wayne’s voice.